Behind Closed Doors
by Hikari Kuu
Summary: Harry becomes a teacher and soon finds himself wrapped up in a scandolous love affair with a student! Not only could he lose his job, his reputation and his friends but soon he finds out he could be losing his life. AU
1. Prologue & Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Behind Closed Doors

Prologue / Chapter One

He fidgeted in his seat, swaying side to side uncomfortably. A drop of sweat ran down his forehead, slid down the side of his cheek, and dropped off his chin and onto his lap. His night sky black locks of hair covered his spectacled concealed ravishing emerald eyes, as he nervously dashed looks around the haunting poorly lit room full of people who all had their hands raised in the air.

He stared at them, listening intently for any signs of objections. He chocked slightly, feeling as if his throat were burning in a raging fire. His insides were dancing, jolting and making low grumbling noises that awkwardly echoed in the silent room. His forehead creased as his eyebrows moved inward and his mouth titled downwards- making a frown of utter disbelief and regret. He had to get a hold of himself, he mentally noted as he bit his lower trembling lip.

All he could feel was regret running up and down his spine, in his chest, and in his manhood that was to blame. Afterall, if it weren't for him and his member he wouldn't be in this kind of position. He gulped, half wanting to start screaming and half wanting to sit there and wait until his fate was decided. Everything he had worked so hard for was gone. His sanity, his job, his friends. What is the purpose of living when no one trusted him anymore? What is the purpose of living when you can't even trust yourself?

* * *

(One year before)

Harry shot upright, clutching his prickling scar as he leaned his back against his beds headboard. It'd been ages since his scar had shown any sign of pain, why had it suddenly started now?

"It's only my nerves," Harry said aloud as he glanced at the clock that sat across the room. "6:20," he sighed as he slid his glasses on, bridging it up his nose lazily and adjusting it so that it wouldn't slide back down.

It was his first year, the first year he would be teaching and not busy running all of the country looking for criminals to turn into Azkaban. That was Harry, the top Auror around and he loved his job, how he ended up as a teacher was another story. Harry unwillingly swept the sheets off of him and tossed his feet off the bed.

He had no problem with teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. A matter of fact it would seem easy in comparison to his usual day to day Auror business. The only downside of the matter would definitely have to be dealing with Snape all over again and annoying kids that wouldn't take anything he said seriously. Immediately thought of Fred and George Weasley and actually ended up retrieving world wide wizarding status with the joke shop they had been planning.

Harry stood up and went to his restroom, picked up his wand from the sinks counter, muttered _litencio, _and the room illuminated as if he had just flicked on the lights with a switch.

He looked at his complexion momentarily, watching his deep intense green eyes stare back at him behind his glasses with an expression of drowsiness. His thunder bolted shaped scar was hidden under his thick locks of black hair that was wildly shooting out in all directions. He didn't look like Gilderoy Lockhart but it was enough to start off the day, and he was extremely thankful he didn't look like that bloke of a man.

"Good morning to you too professor!!! I see you can't even say hello anymore! Well I'm doing perfectly fine… barely managing to look at all the ugly faces that stare at me everyday," a voice boomed in the bathroom.

Harry laughed slightly as he scrubbed his teeth with a whitening wand and cleansed his mouth with a glass of water.

"I'm so sorry, my apologizes," Harry muttered sarcastically to the talking mirror in front of him.

"So would you like to know who is the most fairest man of them all?" Magestio, the talking mirror before him asked, purposely fogging itself so that Harry wouldn't be able to see his reflection.

"No, no not really. I think I'll manage without you and you're on going lectures on who was the prettiest face you've seen in your hundreds of years of living," Harry scoffed as he snapped his fingers, making the light go out.

"Finally saving yourself some embarrassment I see," Harry could hear Magestio grumbled to himself as he closed the door.

There was a loud couple of bangs at the door and Harry darted towards it quickly, swinging the door hastily open.

A grave expression with pursed lips and a pointy black hat…

"Oh, good morning Professor McGonagall. Isn't it such a beautiful morning today?" Harry mumbled nervously.

"You as both I, know well that you haven't even looked outside," Professor McGonagall said as she looked over at his closed shades that were tightly shut and continued," I'm here to tell you that we were all very disappointed in having you not arrive at all for the Sorting Hat ceremony. Your first class will be in two hours so please put on some clothes and look decent for once. Dumbledore is extremely fragile and cannot undergo large amounts of stress so please be considerate and help us all out on the matter".

Professor McGonagall nodded her head dismissively and closed the door. Looking at her face brought back memories Harry had long forgotten, it actually felt good to be back.

* * *

Harry stood in front of the class, watching eyes dart back and forth and students whispering amongst each other loudly.

"I want everyone quiet and if you speak while I am speaking, expect for you to have a months worth of detention with me everyday!!" Shouted a familiar voice from the entrance of the classroom.

Snape…Harry cringed slightly.

"Professor Potter is your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. If he would finally learn how to get to places on time you would have known about this during the sorting ceremony. However, that is everything but the point I'm trying to make. I'm here to tell you all that you must keep your voices down. Professor Dumbledore is ill and we are trying to avoid him from getting stressed in any possible way. Listen to Professor Potter and take this class seriously, we are in danger. I suggest you let everything you learn in this class sink in".

Harry was taken aback; the school being in danger was news to him. He probably should've actually come to the meetings during the summer.

"Longbottom!! Detention!! I said NO speaking. However I wasn't expecting you to understand what no talking actually meant. No foolish wand waving, silly incantations, and for once in your life _Hermoine Granger_- keep out of everyone's business!" Snape snapped, snatching a note that a bushy haired girl was passing over the person beside her.

"Good day Potter," Snape snarled as he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door brusquely. _Some way to keep people from undergoing stress, _Harry thought to himself.

There was a long pause of silence as the class stared at his scar while he took role. The names he was calling out seemed to be going through one of everyone's ear and going out the other as they each said they were present once called upon.

"So, now that that brute is out and away of my classroom I think we can all breathe and have a little chat." He could hear murmurs of agreement and sighs of relief as everyone's attention broke free of his scare.

"Let's see… I'm not used to this teaching thing as you all know but let me throw out a random question. What do you get when you send out a Suruaset Curse and then enchant the object with an Enchantment Charm?"

One girls hand darted in the air as the rest of the class's hands remained neatly folded on top of their desks. Time seemed to stop and nothing could be seen but that girl.

He stared at her, mouth slightly opened, and his heart beating softly. Her cascade of bushy hair and what seemed to be a flawless face captivated him as nothing seemed to matter any more.

"Yes?" Harry managed to say, zoning back to the class that seemed to have wondered where had gone.

"After a Suruaset Curse is conjured your opponent or object will have all its insides frozen and--," the girl began but then was interrupted by Harry and his dreamy voice that made him sound as if he were lost in thought.

"Perfect, exactly correct. What was your name again?"

"But Professor I didn't even finish my answer," the girl said, obviously disappointed that she wasn't able to show off what she knew about the topic.

"It really doesn't matter. Your name, again?"

"Hermoine Granger," Hermoine said, combing a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Well, Ms. Granger you have just earned…Gryffindor is it? Yes, Gryffindor has just earned fifteen points for your excellent performance." Harry smirked as he waved his wand at the board and the objectives for the course appeared on the board.

"F-f-fifteen? But I didn't even finish answering," Hermoine stammered. The class all scoffed, telling her to stay quiet and not complain.

"Since this is a N.E.W.T class you should all be expecting projects after projects after projects to be due every week. Today's assignment is two rolls of parchment on comparing and contrasting the Suruaset Curse and an Enchantment Charm. Due first thing tomorrow". Harry slouched on his chair, took a sip of his brandy, and stretched his back momentarily.

Hermoine beamed as everyone tensed in their chairs, already hating the school year. Harry looked at the class, some students all prepared to start protesting on the sudden assignment the first day of school.

"No, I'm only kidding". Harry laughed and a few relieved chuckles followed but Hermoine frowned and began writing the essay in her notebook whether it were due or not.

"Professor, is it okay if…if I look at your scar? Up close I mean."

Harry looked over at a tall and skinny boy with flaming red hair and an ocean of freckles sprinkled in all directions on his face. The class, all interested, waited for Harry to answer.

"I guess that would be okay," Harry said awkwardly as the boy stood up from his sit and walked over to him. Harry lifted his locks of hair from his forehead to reveal the scar that the boy gaped at in shock as he traced the scar using his finger.

"That is so wicked!! I'm Ronald Weasley! You went to school with my brothers!!" Ron smiled coyly.

Before Harry could say anything back Hermoine treaded to the front desk, elbowed Ron out of her way, and looked Harry dead in the eye- staring into his shimmering eyes as she blushed.

"Professor, can I talk to you after class? It's about extra credit."

Harry nodded. This was going to be a great year.

* * *

That's the end of the prologue/chapter one. That was a double jammy for you guys. Anyways, this story is not some senseless perverted story that has no morals behind it. It's a mixture of all genres and focuses on how it feels to be different and lost and alone in the world. And a note- my friend Rena5 is co-writing this. Please review because its very much appreciated and with your comments, this story will be better. Thanks! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay of updates, I've been pretty busy with school and there's been a lack of communication with my co-writer

Behind Closed Doors

Chapter Two

Hermoine found herself mesmerized by the feeling of serenity the crystal blue hue of the sky gave her. Her eyes dreamily followed the puffy shapes that the clouds made in the sky. First it took the shape of a rabbit and then it morphed into a dragon. The unstructured figure then started to morph into something that looked awkwardly familiar. It took on an oval shaped head with unruly locks of hair, square masculine jaw with the lips that would cause temptation left and right. It then twisted to form two orbs for eyes.

She gasped suddenly realizing what her mind had conjured up in the clouds. After her shock had subsided she smiled slowly and rested her cheek on her palm languorously; eyes closed as she entered a fantasy world all her own. She could hear her heart thumping tenderly, she felt the rise and fall of her chest, and she sensed someone staring at her.

"Ms. Granger… Ms. Granger". She could hear a voice repeating her name but it seemed so distant that she didn't bother paying attention to it. Her mouth parted slightly as she thought about his lips, the soft caress of a finger, the feeling of embracement.

"Ten points from Gryffindor! Ms. Granger wake up or I'll take off ten more." Hermione's eyes opened just enough so that she could see Professor McGonagall in front of her, a cross expression plastered on her face. Hermione's eyes opened wider as she noticed a crumpled piece of parchment in her hand. 'Great,' thought Hermoine. 'My first day back and all ready I have to serve detention.'

"I'm so sorry, Professor, I swear I am! I didn't get enough sleep last night and-". Hermione's dramatics were cut short by Professor McGonagall.

"Hermione save your endless excuses. You have detention with me for two days! Now back to my lecture and Hermione I suggest you take out parchment and write down the notes you missed."

* * *

Hermione looked up at the ceiling, staring at the nothingness that seemed to keep her mind occupied. She sighed deeply, blowing a piece of thick hair out of her face. Homework, she'd done it all twice already. Twice in case she lost the first copy by any chance or just in case Ron had the sudden urge to copy, he could just take one.

"Hermione could you please get your feet off of the desk, we need to study," demanded an irritated voice. Hermione's eyes tore from the ceiling and looked at Ron, whose face was hidden behind a shower of freckles. She lifted her feet off of the desk and stood up, ready to go lock herself in her room.

"Wow, you're actually studying for a change? Nothing against you guys," she said pausing to look at Neville and Dean, "but Ron on the other hand is the sorriest things to look at in this world." With that Hermione turned on her heels and headed for her room.

"Really, she's taught me to be patient in so many ways. Well, we don't need that bushy, buck-toothed, git here anyways," Ron yelled dismissively, obviously wanting Hermoine to hear the comment. He slammed his books closed getting ready to take a break, Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas following.

"I'm not deaf you know!" Hermione's shrill voice yelled from the girl's dormitory.

"Oh, really! Well, that's news to me!" Ron retorted, equally as loud.

"Anything is news to an idiot like you!"

"Look who's talking!

"If I were an idiot I wouldn't have been the valedictorian of our house last year!"

"Go shove your nose in book and stay there!" Ron yelled, trying to keep himself from laughing.

"At least it would be better than having to look at your hideous face!" Hermione bellowed, stomping on the floor angrily. She was already 17 and Ron could still get her too act so childish. She hated him for it.

"If I'm so hideous, Hermione, then how in the life of Merlin did I manage to get five girlfriends during summer break!"

"Because you were lucky, **Ron**, to have been around girls who couldn't have been any smarter than trolls!"

"Why don't you guys go and get a room!" Someone yelled from a one of the dormitories, roars of laughter following from crowds of people all over the common room.

Hermione blushed profusely, embarrassed that everyone had heard her and Ron bicker like an old married couple. She wanted to start screaming at everyone. She wanted everyone to mind their business and leave her alone. She looked down at Ron, whose haughty glare bore into her until she felt the need to open her mouth and start yelling once again. Taking a deep breath she decided against it and walked back to her room, closing the door quietly.

She leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes, practicing a breathing routine she had read in a book back at home with her parents. Why was she acting so hardheaded? Lately she wasn't feeling like herself. She was usually the normal quiet, problem solving person who didn't care much for arguing or socializing. All of a sudden the quietness evaporated and left behind a more assertive person. Hermoine wondered what could have made such a significant change. Nothing extraordinarily odd had happened during the summer for her to change so dramatically. 'Except, of course, for those stupid blank outs,' she mentally reminded, still leaning against the door with her eyes shut.

Her curtains were drawn to the side, letting the warm sunshine spill into her room. She looked outside as people walked back and forth on the campus lawn. She could see the leaves on the trees sway back and forth as the breeze threatened to make them fall. It was getting chilly outside as autumn was quickly approaching, bringing her eighteenth birthday and her graduation along with it. This was it; this was the year where everything counted. After this she would have to go and face the real world, no longer behind the school's protective walls. Hermoine had yet to pick a major, and still had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. She was always the one who knew everything before most everyone else, but now she was stuck on where her life would take her after Hogwarts. Hermione glanced at her watch. Ten minutes until lunch.

* * *

_She sat against the wall, her head rolling onto her shoulder. Her breathing was heavy as if she had been under water for a prolonged period of time and had just now taken a breath of air. Her eyes wandered over the room, scanning all the detail that she could with her cloudy vision. There was a dusty chair, a bolted door, a musty smelling rug, and a table. There was something odd about the table. She shook her head slightly trying to ward off her foggy vision. _

_Once her vision cleared she looked up at the table once again. Her eyes grew twice their size and she gasped, inhaling so much of the dusty air that it scratched her throat. There was a limp body positioned on the table. At first Hermione's innocence lead her to believe that the person was asleep but at further inspection she noticed it wasn't sleeping, it was dead. _

_The body looked to have been thrown on the table instead of placed, blood tricked down its hand, making small dripping noises as the droplets hit the ground. A head, with its eyes closed, and a dangling arm was all Hermoine could see. As she attempted to get up and further inspect the body the bolt on the door levitated itself, leaving the small room vulnerable. An unwelcome rush of cold wind blew into the room penetrating through her cloths and making her teeth start clattering. _

_The door then fully swung open, revealing a dark menacing figure. She gasped slightly, an unusually chilling sensation running up and down her spine. She started to panic as the figure started moving toward her. She tried once again to get up but her limbs wouldn't move. Where was she? What was happening? Hermoine opened her mouth to scream for help but nothing put puffs of air came out._

_The figure was now uncomfortably close, so close that she could hear its raspy breathing. The breathing became even louder as long, boney fingers reached out to touch her. Hermoine closed her eyes tightly, tears squeezing there way through her eye lids. What was happening? _

* * *

Hermione's vision drifted in and out. She blinked continuously, trying to drive away the horrible dream that she couldn't quite remember. Suddenly she heard her name. At first it was a faint whisper. The whisper than became a louder more frantic one.

"Hermione… Hermione, could you please get off my backpack! I have potions in there! Professor Snape will kill me if you break them! Move, move over, come on move!"

Hermione felt her body being shoved aside harshly. Her eyes opened now revealing a perfectly clear vision. She looked around and tried to gather her surroundings before looking up at Lavender Brown, who was nervously rummaging through her backpack in search of her flasks.

"Lavender, why am I on the floor? Why am I in lying in the middle of the Great Hall?" Hermoine asked, still a bit dazed. Hermione stood up and brushed off the dust that had collected on her skirt.

"How should I know what you were in here for? Here I was, minding my own business when you just walk into me and collapse on my backpack. Oh, Hermione you've done it! You broke one of my flasks! And that was the hardest potion out of the four. I don't even have the ingredients! And you just stand there like some fool and don't even apologize? You've done it now!" Lavender stormed off, murmuring 'you've done it' to herself repetitively.

"I'm so sorry Lavender! I didn't mean to, I swear! I'll make it up to you, promise; I'll do all your potions over ten times if you want!" Hermione pleaded. Her words were echoed as she screamed out for Lavender in the middle of the Great Hall. The portraits near her hissed unpleasantly, claiming that she was being excessively loud and disturbing their time of peace.

"˜Damn it! What's wrong with me today?" she asked herself, a flood of emotion washing over her, causing an uncontrollable outburst of tears. Everything was going wrong today, everything was her fault, and no one wanted to be near her. She sat in the corner on the floor, hugging her legs in an attempt to hide her sentiment from everyone else. People walked by her countless times never seeming to notice her or probably noticing but just not caring enough to stop.

"Hermione, what are you doing on the floor all alone? Are you crying?"

That voice, it sounded so familiar. It soothed her, made her warm inside, almost as if arms were being wrapped around her reassuring her safety and happiness. She looked over at the person who had spoken and was surprised because it was the person she had least expected.

"Professor Hairee? I mean Potty…no Potter. P-P-Professor Harry Potter, uh I was just… I mean I… found… I don't know what I'm doing here," Hermione admitted wiping away the tears from her eyes. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of green and she found herself staring into them, trying to read their expression that seemed like a complex riddle waiting to be solved. She realized he was amused, obviously adoring her state of confusion.

Her heart suddenly rattled in her chest just as it had done earlier this morning during transfiguration class. She couldn't help but scan his face repetitive times; greedily taking in any and every detail she could, storing it in her memory for later use. Her nipples hardened uninvitingly causing her to blush all over. She felt her face heat up profusely and looked away from him, trying to hide her state of lust.

"So, you don't know why you're sitting in the middle of the Great Hall? That is one of the worst excuses I've heard in a while and I'm an Auror so believe me- I've heard plenty. Oh, that reminds me," Harry smiled sticking his hands in his pockets searching for something that he'd just remembered was important. He took out a small slip and gave it to Hermione, running his fingers through his hair in the process.

"I'm having detention with you? But I thought it was with Professor Mc-." Harry shook his head and interrupted.

"Professor Mickey's busy. She had to go to some sort of meeting with the headmaster tonight. You know how these sorts of things are. Are you okay? You look a little dizzy. I think you should come to my office and have some chocolate, always works like a charm". He stated turning his back to her and leading the way to his office.

The trip would have seemed longer if she hadn't had such a good view of his perfectly sculpted rear. Soon they stopped in front of a door and she waited patiently. She watched him wordlessly as he rumbled through every pocket he had on his body until he finally found the key. As soon as he pushed open the door Hermoine was assaulted by the strong, unpleasant odor of brandy and liquor. She felt her throat tighten causing her to start coughing, despite her resistance to be disrespectful. Harry laughed and with a wave of his wand, the windows opened to let fresh air come into the stifling room.

"Thanks," Hermione murmured as he gave her a chocolate frog, "I missed lunch and must've passed out."

"No problem", he said with a trace of drowsiness in his tone.

Harry walked over to his desk and sat down on his plush chair. He propped his feet up on his desk wearily and closed his eyes. Hermione, taking advantage the situation, looked around at the interesting surroundings. Something that caught Hermione's attention immediately was the portrait that stood atop his desk. The portrait was that of a woman with a pair of whimsical pale eyes and a crooked smile.

"Who's that lady? Is she a cousin of yours?" Hermoine asked hopefully.

"Not exactly… she's actually my fiancée," he replied opening his eyes to look at her.

"Oh...she looks really familiar but I can't remember where I've seen that face before," she stuttered, hit with a pang of jealousy that even she didn't understand.

"Yes, well, she's the President of the Quibbler newspaper, author of the books _How to Get Revenge in 20 Days_, and _A World Discovered, a World of the Unknown."_

"Luna Lovegood, yes I've read all those books. Well, actually I'm finishing up the world one. It's… very explicit and informative about," Hermione paused, feeling embarrassed about her revelation to him. This conversation was definitely heading onto thin ice.

"Sex? Yeah well Luna has a certain interest in that area. She'll actually be coming to Hogwarts to teach you seventh years a thing or two.

"Well you certainly should know a thing or two about sex, no?" Hermione paused, noticing how awkward that must have come out. "I mean… being the husband of a sexual consoler and such".

"I know a little something something," he replied half jokingly and half coyly. Hermoine laughed freely.

She loved how open and completely uncensored he was acting around her. He almost made her feel like an adult rather than the child everyone thought her to be. She started to relax feeling a sense of equality surrounding her. The emotion was so unexpected that it made her especially giddy.

"Do you want a mug of brandy to wash down that chocolate frog?" Harry asked casually, pouring himself a mug full of brandy.

Hermione shook her head and smiled. "Professor, are you drunk? Brandy is definitely something I don't look forward to tasting."

"Why not?" Harry asked her mockingly, taking a swig from his mug of brandy. She gasped at how easily the liquid seemed to go down his throat.

"Well, because brandy, rum and all those other types of liquors are a vile thing that turn even the noblest of gentlemen into barbarians," she explained indignantly.

"So what am I now? A barbarian? A threat?" Harry paused and drank a gulp more before continuing, "A pedophile?"

Harry stared at her; his green eyes making her feel as though they were trying to see right through her. He did seem tipsy, one eye slightly bigger than the other. But nonetheless he was breathtakingly attractive with his dark locks hanging charismatically over his brows. He scratched his chin and laughed, seeming as though he didn't take her remark seriously.

"You're right, you are totally and completely correct. Sixty points to Gryffindor." Harry said sounding satisfied. He was now swaying side to side slightly.

"Professor, sixty points? For what?" asked Hermoine in complete shock. What was wrong with him? He seemed incoherent all of a sudden.

"I'll add another twenty points to Gryffindor for your modesty," he blabbed taking another sip of brandy.

"What? Eighty points, are you kidding me!" She noticed Harry had his eyes shut and his head was moving from side to side rhythmically. Hermione's eyes widened as she finally put two and two together. '_He's drunk! He's completely drunk!_' she thought outraged, '_so all that familiarity was because he was drunk?_'

"Err, I have to go brew a few potions for someone...uh, I guess I'll see you in detention," she mumbled, grabbing her books and heading out the door.

"You really don't have to come tonight. I'll just say you came and did your time". She should have taken his offer; she should have just walked away. She stopped and stared at him just as she had earlier, taking in all the details of his face. Her breathing became heavy as she started to imagine him in her room; his eyes would be closed, just as they were now, his lower half barley covered, his lips on her lips then on her neck and then…

"Oh, really its fine, detention really isn't a big deal," Hermione said, still flushed. '_Wait, what're you saying? What if this is all just a lie. He's drunk,' _her practical-sensible side said alarmingly.

Just then he opened his eyes slowly; staring at her intently as if undressing her with his eyes. Her heart jumped into her throat and she swallowed hard. Her body temperature rose a good ten degrees; her body burned from the inside out. She had to get out of there before she melted under his gaze.

"Bye Harry," she whispered hoarsely turning around abruptly and starting to head out the door.

She headed to her next class quickly, all the muscles in her body were tense and her heart was thumping wildly. She couldn't understand why she was so shaken. Her curly hair bounced at her side as she hurried on, eyes facing the ground uncomfortably. '_No_,' she thought, '_maybe I shouldn't go to detention tonight. Maybe I should just work on Lavenders potions. Or maybe I should just take a nap_'. She shook her head, knowing very well what she would start to think of if she laid down in her bed.

Hermoine then decided to just walk, not really knowing or caring were she was going just as long as it took her away from him. Before she knew it she was standing in front of Professor Snape's classroom, which was coincidentally her next class of the day. She walked in and was surprised to see Ron sitting at a desk.

He must've also skipped lunch because he was usually the last one in Snape's class. She walked in and sat next to him. '_I really should try to get along with him_,' Hermione thought.

"Ron, I just wanted to say sorry for today," Hermione blurted out trying to silence the voices running through her head. She avoided his eyes, not wanting him to see her frustration.

"Apology accepted." Ron said sternly, taking out his quill and cauldron. Hermione waited several seconds for the apology she was sure would come from him and was disappointed when it hadn't.

"Ron, where is my apology? I'm waiting for it." Hermione said, anger edging its way into her voice.

"Don't bother waiting any longer for it because I don't think it's coming around the corner just yet".

Hermione looked at him and saw a smile on his face. She blew out an agitated breath of air not wanting to bother with the situation any longer. She took out her quill and cauldron and proceeded to take down the notes that Snape had started lecturing. Minutes later Snape stopped abruptly and stared at Hermione with a disgust that was more than he had ever shown towards her.

"Hermione the next time you walk in my class, come prepared for matters that will keep everyone from being embarrassed for you." She followed Snape's eyes that looked at her feet and she gasped loudly. Blood was dripping between her legs. '_How did I forget to wear a tampon! How embarrassing!'_

* * *

HA! I had to end the chapter with a lil comedy. I worked really hard on this story and my co-writer edited lots and added her own stuff to it, also so I would greatly appreciate it if I got feedback. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Be honest. Leave a review. Thanks for reading. Chapter three will not take as long to update, hopefully. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Behind Closed Doors**

**Authors Note**: Sorry about the wait. Really long wait. There have been a couple of problems but the point is that we've done another chapter. And I just want people to know that this fanfic is AU/OCC. I've been getting reviews and emails asking why Harry is a teacher and Hermione is still a student. I thought it was obvious that this was an au/occ but I guess some people were still confused on the issue. Well anyways now that I've made myself clear, enjoy the story! J

**Chapter 3**

The soft, crimson tinted curtains were shut tight as Hermione lay in her four poster bed. She stared aimlessly at the ceiling as sweat slid down from her forehead and made a slow, steady descend down her cheeks and onto her pillow. Her eyes clenched shut, gritting her teeth in the process, as another sharp ovarian pain ripped through her lower abdomen. After a few agonizing minutes the pain slowly dissimilated, leaving only a pulsing memory of the previous pain.

"Damn, these fucking cramps!" she yelled as she slammed a balled up fist against her mattress. Catching herself off guard, she flinched a little as the sound of her voice pierced through her ears, causing her headache to retaliate with pain.

Here she was, stuck in bed while everyone else was enjoying their half day and having a pleasurable afternoon at Hogsmeade. Completely oblivious to the fact that there might have been less fortunate people like herself. She pulled open the curtains slightly and gasped as the sun's sharp rays pierced her eyes, leaving her temporarily blind. Once she regained her sight she peaked out of her window and watched as everyone happily walked away, hunched together with groups of friends, laughing and joking around continually. Ron's flaming red head was easy to pick out, even in a huge crowd like the one outside. There he was like a total twit giving Lee Jordan a wet willy and tripping over his own feet every couple of seconds.

She'd rather get a wet willy from Ron then be up here, gripping her crotch every two minutes like an idiot without a life. She now squirmed uncomfortably in bed as the dreaded red fluid started to leak out of her and poured into her feminine napkin. She groaned with disgust as she realized that she could be out having a good time and possibly, just possibly be able to sneak a few moments with Harry.

Wait, what was she talking about? _Only a teacher, he's only a teacher, _Hermione reminded herself. _But wouldn't it be nice? It's not a sin to fantasize about anyone, is it? Even if Harry is a teacher…_ It was funny, she mused, how she called him by his first name as if she knew him on a personal level.

"Don't I wish!" she grunted, throwing her head back onto her pillow.

"Damn you, Eve! You had to eat the damned apple and now we're all cursed!" she said sarcastically.

Hermione, enraged by the fact that she had been sitting in bed all day decided that she couldn't take lying down any longer. Still the idea of going downstairs and dealing with the humiliation from a few days ago made sitting in bed all day seem pleasurable. She was sure that the few people who remained at Hogwarts still vividly remembered her tampon incident. Frankly she didn't feel like dealing with the matter or people's idiotic behavior. Deciding to ponder over the pros and con's of the situation she laid there staring at the ceiling.

_Oh well, _Hermione mentally told herself, _I'm going to have to deal with it sooner or later and the day I stay in bed all day like this is the day Hell freezes over. _She threw the comforter off of her body, slid her legs off the side of the bed and trudged over to the bathroom where she proceeded to look into the mirror.

She ruffled her helmet of hair and came to the conclusion that complaining about the pain of PMS wasn't going to make it disappear. With that she took two Midol's and touched her unusually acne free cheeks. She then flipped her hair once more deciding that it wouldn't get any calmer and left her room. Where she was going, what she was going to do she didn't know and frankly she didn't care as long as it was away from her room.

She started to make her way down the main stairway and absentmindedly wandered into the library.

_Well, everyone's gone so I might as well start on my Defense against the Dark Arts project,_ she thought to herself as she walked past the librarian who had her nose planted in the crack of a book and was seemingly asleep. Deserted wasn't a good enough word to describe the emptiness in the library. No one was around except Nearly Headless Nick who seemed busy reading a book, and taking a few moments to chew at his ghostly nails.

_Peace, quite, and in my favorite room: what else can I ask for? There isn't anyone here to ask me for notes, or what we did in class. There isn't anyone crying to me about turning something in late just so that I could let them copy. _Hermione sighed, a wistful smile playing on her lips. If ever the day came when she had to live in the library, she knew that everyone else would too, just to copy off of her homework. People didn't notice her because she was pretty, witty, or nice. All they cared about was the fact that she was smart. It was her answers that they liked.

She walked through each isle; her feet softly tapped against the floor, as she scanned through the books on the shelf. Everything for her project was right there in front of her but her hand was hesitant, not wanting to move and pick up a book to start. Instead she made her way into the isle that housed all the biographies and autobiographies. She hadn't realized who she was looking for until she came upon a shelf devoted to him.

"Are you kidding me? This has got to be a joke." She whispered to herself, almost laughing. Why couldn't she take her mind off of him? He was only a pretty face! Aside from that he was an insipid teacher and even worse, a drunk.

_What do you see in him Hermione?_ She asked herself, reaching out her hand and grabbing a self titled book.

Hermione ran her hand down the spine of the book and then over the front cover, a small collection of dust forming on her index finger. The name Harry Potter was engraved in gold and underneath was the author.

"Luna Lovegood," she read allowed, raising an eyebrow at the irony. _Honey, you know me right? You might as well write a book about me._ Either she had nothing else better to do with her life or she was in desperate need of some money, but the idea of having your fiancé write your life story sounded a bit ridiculous. A sudden rush of guilt came over her and she told herself that it wasn't right to judge people before knowing them.

She took the book; despite her agitation that Luna had written it, and she walked over to a totally secluded section of the library. Though the library as a whole was secluded, she chose to sit at the desk Ron and she always sat at to study. Which didn't happen very often since Ron wasn't into studying. But there were those occasions when Hermione to literally drag him in, knowing he would fail all exams if he didn't study.

Hermione skimmed through the pages, flipping each page hastily aside. The book wasn't incredibly detailed, Hermione critically noted and she was actually pretty surprised. Shouldn't a fiancé know every detail about their mates past? Well, maybe not every detail but the book clearly showed that Luna seemed to know nothing about Harry.

Most biographies seemed to be all about Harry's younger years when it was discovered that he had survived an attack by the infamous sorcerer, Voldemort. They talked about how he went from being "The Boy Who Lived" to becoming "The Chosen One". They then went on to tell how Harry, with the help of his friends, would, every year, find the courage to stand up to a new threat to the school. This book was exactly the same. Why waste your time writing a biography when it was exactly like the others? Not even his fiancé knew him well enough to right a decent biography on him. Or maybe the book was indeed, actually good and Hermione was just jealous over someone she couldn't have.

"Who are you?" she asked aloud, passing her hand over the name that seemed to gleam gold in the sunlight.

"Who's who?" A voice from behind her said, sounding amused.

Hermione didn't know whether she had jumped or jerked wildly in shock but all she could think about was the voice. Quickly, barely thinking, she closed the book and turned it wrong side up so that it was unidentifiable. She turned and there, standing in a teacher's cloak with the Gryffindor emblem to the side, was the man who she had, just moments ago, been reading about.

"Professor...I didn't expect to see you here!" She squeaked nervously, clearing her throat a few more times than needed. "I thought you would have been at Hogsmeade like everyone else."

"No, not everyone is at Hogsmeade. I had a few important matters that needed handling so I chose to stay behind. What book are you reading?" he asked suddenly, noticing how Hermione was trying to conceal the book that was now, half underneath her school vest and snug beneath her arm.

"What, you mean this thing? Oh, no it's just my diary!" she blurted out, sounding so legit that she had even surprised herself. _Maybe I should have taken drama this year, _she mused arrogantly. She saw a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. What was so funny? Was there something on her face? A pimple that suddenly appeared?

"So, you have a diary? You know diaries aren't always as safe as they seem. Maybe I should have a look at it." At this point Hermione wasn't sure whether he just wanted a peek in her personal life or he was actually serious about the diary being jinxed. But something told her that he probably had the intention of both.

"Yeah, I've got a diary but seriously now. I don't want you looking at it, mind you; I have lots of personal things in here." Why was she making such a big deal about all this? Why couldn't she just show him that she was just reading a biography of his?

"Well, nothing, it's just I used to have a friend Ginny and..."

"Yeah I know that story; I think we've all heard about your 2nd year and how she was possessed by you-know-who." Hermione stared at Harry who looked offended for some reason as he leaned on the table. Suddenly she realized how tall he was and her breathing quickened.

"Yeah, I'm sure you've heard about that. But aren't diaries for people who find it hard to deal with life? And you, well, you always seem so sure of yourself so it doesn't seem like you would need one." Harry instigated, wanting to know what Hermione was truly hiding.

"Oh, that's right so then you must have a diary? No wonder your an expert at all this diary business!" she replied wittily, becoming angry as she remembered his drunken state from a few days ago. Or had it been yesterday? She wasn't quite sure. His eyes widened slightly, knowing exactly what she was referring to. She could tell he was offended and slightly hurt by her comment. Still she persisted.

"Well...do you have a diary that's snug underneath your pillow comfortably as we speak?" Hermione asked just above a whisper.

"No...I don't." Hermione noted that he seemed too firm to have been saying the honest truth. The mischief in his eyes was now replaced with a subtle sadness that he tried very hard to conceal. His eye's narrowed as they looked at her. A question playing in his eyes. A question Hermione couldn't quite understand.

"Well then first impressions aren't always the right ones, are they?" Hermione asked rhetorically, feeling triumphant about the situation.

"Well sometimes that's all you have," he answered, not letting the issue rest. His voice was low and raspy and frankly enough she started to get confused on what the subject of the conversation actually was.

"Well what if I want more?" she asked faintly, looking down at the scruffy looking floor.

"Then I don't know what to tell you Ms. Granger," Harry said lowly but she was too much in a daze, at this point, to even understand what he had said. His green eyes burned into her and she felt out of place, the room around her seemed to spin slowly. Dangerous was the only word she could summon to describe those amazing, green colored eyes. They did something to her that she couldn't even explain. A thick layer of tension settled upon them as they stood there staring at each other. Neither of them knew what to say or how to break the silence and the more time passed, the more electrifying the tension seemed.

Suddenly without warning, a shrill voice pierced through the tension causing them both to jump, violently out of their previous thoughts. Hermione was so astounded by the voice that she didn't noticed when she dropped the book on the floor. Harry, being more level headed then Hermione heard the thud the book made on the floor and crouched down to pick it up. It was then that he noticed how long and voluptuous Hermione's legs were in her tightly fitted pants. His heart raced dramatically as he forced his eyes to shift toward the object in his hand. That's when he noticed the real content of the book.

A small smile played at his lips as he looked up into Hermione's, still dazed eyes, challengingly.

"Diary...eh?"

Just as Hermione was about to explain, professor McGonagall's weary face peered in.

"Oh, Professor Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "I've been searching for you everywhere. Your fiancée Luna is in your classroom and she wishes to have a word with you."

_Luna? What the hell is Luna doing here! _Hermione thought, feeling extremely disappointed. _Fuck! _It was in that instant that everything came back to her and the room stopped spinning, the room seemed to dim, her momentary daze was gone, and Harry was no longer looking at her. She even started to remember who she was and who he was. Now he would go running to _her_ as if Hermione were of no importance.

"Yes, tell her I'm helping out a student with a project and that I'll be there in just a second," he answered. He was so busy looking at Professor McGonagall that he didn't notice the look of utter shock on Hermione's face. Professor McGonagall too didn't notice as she began once again to speak.

"Well, Professor Potter she said she was in a bit of a hurry and had to get going."

_Wait_, _did he just put his fiancé on hold for me? Is he drunk, again?_ One look into his eyes told Hermione that he wasn't.

"Well then, Hermione, I guess we'll have to finish this another time," he stated looking at Hermione briefly.

"Of course," Hermione replied, almost breathlessly and trying to make it sound as if his departure meant nothing to her.

She took one last glance at his eyes, those wonderfully devilish eyes and saw a spark of something. What it was she couldn't decipher because he moved away too quickly. Hermione watched as Harry walked away with Professor McGonagall by his side. Why was she so affected by his presence? He was a teacher, **her **teacher at that. And not only was he a teacher but he was also going to get married, so why was she stressing over this situation?

Once they were out of the library Professor McGonagall made it a point to speak once more.

"Brilliant student is she not?" she asked.

Harry smiled, taking one last glance in the direction of the library.

"Oh yes, brilliant."

* * *

Harry stared at the drop of perspiration that was sliding down his mug of whiskey. He watched the drop as it sluggishly made its way down the body of the glass and finally dissolved beneath the bottom. His head pounded lightly and there was a faint buzzing in his ear that was followed by an angered voice.

Once again Harry found that he had drowned himself in liquor. Harry had walked into his classroom anxious, feeling more alive and manly than ever when suddenly, without introduction or greeting Luna started bombarding him with the life he'd tried so hard to forget. Instead of hugging him and kissing him, as most fiancé's do, she asked the simple question: _Honey, yellow roses or purple tulips?_ It was the wedding once again. As if he didn't have enough on his mind now he had to help her choose her bouquet? Shouldn't she know him well enough to be able to tell his likes and dislikes?

"Whatever you think is best." Harry replied, with a touch of exasperation in the tone of his voice. Luna then went on continually about color coordination and seasonal flowers, not taking any sort of notice that Harry seemed deprived. When Harry couldn't take anymore of her talk he stood from the chair he had been sitting in and went to go pour himself another mug of any random liquor that might've been stored in his classroom. As soon as Luna realized his intentions she sighed and started to lecture him, bringing up the past and making Harry more prone to drink than before.

He sat down watching his liquor sway slightly side to side inside the mug, finding this more interesting than hearing Luna speak.

"Harry...Harry look at me when I'm talking to you! Jesus, you're drunk again! You know that it hurts me so much to see you like this! What? Do you just do it to get me mad? Is that what this is? God Harry, what are you playing at? If you keep this up more things, worse things will happen, like losing someone you love..." Luna stared at Harry with tears stubbornly immobile at the corners of her eyes, a desperate expression plastered on her face. _Please Harry, please, don't let me leave,_ she pleaded with herself.

The voice that had always seemed to be so tender and passive was now wavering with emotion. He looked at her for the first time since he had walked into his classroom and saw an ocean of emotions all tumbling together in a wave of tears. A part of him tried to move, try to stop her and to tell her that he was okay, that he would learn to forget the past. The other part, the more practical one, knew that it would never be forgotten; things would never be the way she wanted them to be. Was she really to blame? Harry hadn't decided, but he found that the easiest way to cope with his situation was to somehow make it seem as if it _was_ Luna's fault.

Harry looked back down at his now, empty glass, not knowing what to do. The once gentle pounding that resided in his head was now hurtful and deafening. His life seemed to be spinning out of control right in front of him and he could only sit, watching and wishing that someone could wave a wand and make all his problems disappear. Harry didn't say a word as he just looked at her, a lost expression on his face.

Luna's lips tried parting to form words but nothing but whimpers came out. Her tears were now escalated to the point that she couldn't speak. She tried to come closer to him but stopped half way as if it hurt to get too close to him.

"Good-bye Harry," Luna muttered painfully with the last of her strength, before running out of Harry's classroom.

Harry was motionless as he watched her go. In movies this would be the part where Harry would come to his senses, jump off his chair, run after her and passionately kiss all her worries away. Harry buried his head in his hands knowing very well that this wasn't a movie, it was life, and in life a kiss could only do so much.

* * *

Hermione gripped her quill, looking at her hand and noticing the sheer transparency of her fair skin. She sighed deeply as the beginning of a headache started to form near her temples. The pounding was a soft rhythmical one but was still loud enough not to let anymore thoughts run through her head. She hadn't decided whether that was a good thing or not. She dipped her quill in ink and proceeded to write the sentence, _I will pay attention in class_, compliments of Professor McGonagall, despite her upcoming headache. 'Two hundred sentences down, five hundred more to go, she thought to herself cynically.

She proceeded to write, but no matter what she did to occupy herself, her mind always wandered to the same subject...Harry. It came to the point where she was actually annoying herself and surprisingly missing Ron. She hadn't spoken to him for a few days and actually wanted his company. After all, sadly enough, he was her only friend.

She tried not to but every once and a while she would glance up at Harry to see if he was looking at her and was disappointed when he wasn't. He hadn't talked to her since she entered his room for detention. Even though this is what a normal teacher would have done, it was extremely odd for Harry o follow that norm. Why was he so dejected all of a sudden?

"Professor, can I ask you something-" Hermione paused, coming to the conclusion that asking would be too forward, "- about something that's been on my mind for quite a while."

Harry glanced at her over the rims of his glasses. She had to catch her breath at the sight. He was so manly and looked like he would easily get away with beating his chest like an idiot and somehow, make it seem attractive. Her hand kept writing but her eyes were no where near the paper.

"Sure, anything," he answered casually.

"Well...," Hermione stumbled trying to figure out what she was going to ask him in replacement of her last question. "I...I just wanted to know why you became a teacher all of a sudden. I mean, you were one of the best Auror's the wizarding world has ever seen...so why give that all up?" Hermione stared at him longingly, watching as he bit his bottom lip. She watched him attentively, noticing how he scratched his chin repetitively. She knew that he somehow knew that wasn't the question she was planning on asking him.

"The only answer I can give you is that Hogwarts needs my help. Unfortunately Dumbledore isn't feeling well and he's done so much for me in the past. So now it's time I pay him back." Harry stopped, his eyes glazing, as he proceeded to scribble down notes and class plans.

She stared at him, trying to make her eyes move to the side and look at something else. She knew he had tip-toed around the subject and she could feel that that wasn't the only reason he had, but she dropped the subject. Again he fell into a silent oblivion that made Hermione feel awkward and she did her best not to disturb.

Hadn't she heard from someone that his fiancé was seen running out of his room in tears? Come to think of it, she didn't even remember when or where she was told that. Was it Lavender? No it couldn't be, since Lavender wasn't speaking to her due to the Potions incident. Harry almost seemed like a stranger and despite all of his fame and the countless biographies written about his achievements, she realized she really, truly knew nothing about him.

"Luna came to talk to me today..." Harry began, shocking her out of her train of thought once more.

"I know," Hermione said just above a whisper. She wanted to look back at him and let him know that he had her full attention but she had a feeling he already knew.

"Of course, I mean you were there when..." he trailed off as he came upon the subject of the library. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"I didn't stop her from leaving. She was right there and I just couldn't get up...why?" The question was more directed towards him than towards her and Hermione was thankful for that because she wouldn't have known how to answer.

"I wish I could answer you but I just don't know how. I think when it comes down to it, you're the only one who really knows, right?" she asked him helplessly.

Hermione couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Emotions weren't her area of expertise, studies were and she felt if she tried to answer his question, she would just sound stupid. For the first time in her life she didn't know the answer to a question. She didn't like the feeling either…

"Don't," he said, answering her previous question. "Don't answer because you're perfectly right. I'm the only one who can answer those kinds of questions. Ten points for Gryffindor". Hermione would've laughed at his completely random offer, but it was obvious that it wasn't the time or place for jokes.

"Listen Hermione, you can leave. Two hundred sentences are enough for today." He didn't look at her when he said this but, instead, proceeded to write down class plans and notes. Hermione sat there for a while and when he didn't say anything else, she figured that he thought she had already left. She stood up from her seat, packed up her stuff quietly and started for the door. She took one last look at Harry before walking out of his room quietly.

* * *

Hermione scooped up the porridge that sat in her bowl and let it slip from the spoon purposely. She didn't have an appetite and she barely even slept the night before. Her mother had sent her a letter through owl saying that her father had the day before. Hermione grimaced as she remembered how her chest had tightened significantly and how the piece of parchment in her hand had shook frantically. Though she had expected this kind of news for months, the reality of it was that she wasn't prepared for it. He wasn't one of the many random people that were written about in the Daily Prophet, and he wasn't just another other death. He had been her father. He was the person who had shown her how to be studious and have respect for knowledge as a whole. Now he was gone and here she was stuck in Hogwarts so far away from home where she should be. She felt as if a part of herself had died along with her father and the only way to avoid a break down was to but up her defensive wall. She wouldn't cry, she couldn't.

"Hermione I bought you something from Hogsmeade since you weren't feeling well and couldn't come. You missed all the action! Neville got punched in the face and he jinxed Seamus but it turned out it was Dean." Ron sat down next to her, seeming to forget about the fight that they had just the other day. She appreciated his company but everything he was saying seemed to sound so distant that it wouldn't make any sense to try and listen. She saw his hand reach in his pocket and place a few chocolate frogs in front of her and she heard him say something along the lines of how each frog mentioned a new spell before you ate it.

Clearly Ron didn't notice that she was in a deep despair. "Are you okay Hermione? You're too quiet." Ron looked at her while he stuffed himself with the untouched porridge bowl in front of her. She glanced at him briefly and was slightly amused. His red hair was ruffled, some porridge running down his chin, and his eyes staring at her in confusion.

"My father died, Ron. He…he had tuberculosis." She murmured, looking down at the, now, empty bowl of porridge. Ron took this time to wipe his chin. A look of remorse came upon his bright features as he stared sympathetically at Hermione. Hermione wasn't exactly sure what tuberculosis was called in the wizarding world or if it even existed, but the word death was universal and anyone could easily comprehend the depth of meaning behind that single word.

"Whoa, Hermione I'm sorry. If I had known I would've, you know, I wou—," Ron was interrupted by Hermione who simply shook her head and murmured an "_its okay_". She quickly cleaned off the tears that ran down her face with the back of her hand and produced a fake smile. Christmas was months away and until then she would try not to let his death interfere with her life here at Hogwarts. It was here last year and she couldn't let anything get in the way of her goals, whatever they may be.

"So, was the weather awesome or what? Even from inside I could just tell it was a beautiful day!" Hermione said cheerfully as she rested her check on a balled up hand and looked at Ron. For now, Hermione would put a veil of joy over her despair and hope that it was convincing enough. Just before Ron was going to respond, a girl nudged him in the shoulder and his face slammed against the table. A petite girl about Hermione's age walked by mindlessly as if she had not noticed she had bumped into Ron. Her silky black hair fell to her shoulders and her sharp slanted eyes seemed lost in thought, almost in their own world.

"Hey, watch we're your going!" Ron yelled, his ears quickly fuming red at the tips as he rubbed the back of his head. At that same moment, the girl stopped walking and robotically turned her body towards Ron and stared at him, her eyes cast in a daze. Her lips slightly parted and stood frozen in one position as if they were confused on what to do next.

"My... name is Crisanna Tang. With two n's and beginning with a 'C'." Crisanna stopped abruptly and stared blankly at Ron's empty plate, her head bobbing side to side slowly.

"I already know who you are, just watch we're your going next time!" Ron bellowed as a soft stream of blood ran down his forehead.

Ron then turned around quickly, wanting to keep his temper in check. Hermione, on the other hand, stayed staring at the girl. Her eye's narrowed as she studied Crisanna's features. Crisanna, obviously feeling uncomfortable under Hermione's observing gaze, turned around quickly and walked away with a limp in her leg.

"You know her?" Hermione asked Ron, nudging him in the arm to catch his attention.

"You mean that girl that bumped into me? Yeah I know her. She's a new student. I have her in my potions class. A real mystery that one," explained Ron, looking at the departing girl in awe.

Hermione frowned slightly and jealousy ran up and down her spine. Crisanna was the one and only person in the school that was more intelligent than Hermione. Crisanna was better than Hermione in all classes and even flying on a broom. With Straight O's on her N.E.W.T's and taking 7th year classes in her first few years at the Xoying Chinese School of Wizards and Witches in China, Crisanna was what some would call an all around genius.

"She supposedly has no parent's and no one knows how she got to Hogwarts. All we know is that she must be a hell of a witch to have made it into that Xoying School. It's ranked up in the top 3 best schools in the wizarding world. She lives with an uncle in London so I guess that's who her guardian is now," Ron explained, looking around for another bowl of porridge to stuff into his mouth. Hermione sympathized with the girl's lack of parents but that didn't lessen who curiosity.

"Who's her uncle?" Hermione asked persistently, only to get a lazy shrug from Ron.

"Weird, but there isn't a doubt that that girl has an amazing brain," Hermione trailed off.

"You're telling me," Ron said, finally settling for a biscuit instead of more porridge.

Was Crisanna a friend or foe? Brains like that never end up working for any sort of good side. Maybe it wasn't Hermione's business but never has she come upon someone that smart. Hermione sighed heavily coming to the conclusion that only time would unlock the mysteries of this new addition to Hogwarts. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed and a bit exhausted from the week's events, she stood from the table, murmured _"Good-bye" _to Ron and headed towards the Gryffindor girl's dormitory. Now that Hermione was alone her heart suddenly started to beat faster and her lip began to tremble. Her loving father was gone and now she could never see his smile again.

"Look at the trash that is still walking around in these corridors," a sneering voice said from behind Hermione. She turned around and stared into a pale faced, white blonde haired man with a well built figure that would intimidate many. Her eye looked at his chest and she saw a badge flashing near his right shoulder. It read:

_Ministry of Magic, International Office of Law, Draco Malfoy _

"Excuse me?" Hermione stared wide eyed straight into Draco's face, clearly incensed.

"Filthy Mudbloods are a waste of time and clearly don't understand English, either." Draco, head high in the air, walked away from Hermione with an extreme air of arrogance. Hermione could feel the blood streaming inside her telling her loud and clear that this would mean war.

* * *

The End of chapter 3

If you didn't understand something then just wait a few more chapters because everything will be explained. Please leave reviews and tell us what you liked, didn't like, comments in general really. School is starting soon so I can't give any promises about a quick update or not. But thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Behind Closed Doors**

**Authors Note**: Wow that was another long wait. We got hit by a hurricane (which was actually months ago but shhh) and schools been hectic so sorry for the delay! Oh and I was really disappointed with the lack of reviews from the last chapter. We worked really hard on that one.

**Chapter 4**

Hermione slammed a balled up fist down on the desk that stood in front of her, hoping that it would some how magically snap in half. She could feel her face glowing an alarming shade of red and the veins in her wrist began to tense themselves. "Professor, you can't do this to me, not this time! He called me a mudblood and all you plan to do is sit there?" Her voice was strained showing that she was having a difficult time controlling her anger. Professor McGonagall looked at Hermione with an expression of both awe and anger and subtly a sense of not even much caring.

"Ms. Granger I suggest you watch what tone you use with me and how you go about treating my property. Your immaturity is not welcome in my classroom because all that you're doing is aggravating me. When I get aggravated I also tend to become irrational and trust me young lady you do _not _want me to act irrationally, " Proffessor McGonagal said firmly. Her hawk like eyes pierced through Hermione, giving her the sudden urge to overthrow the table and slam a text book in Professor McGonagal's face.

Hermione could see her image being reflected back at her from the Professor's glasses and realized that she looked entirely mad. Hermione sighed deeply, at a loss of emotion as she let her body drop onto the chair behind her. She dropped her gaze from the Professor and looked at the hands that rested on her lap. She knew deep down that she wasn't bothered over being called a mudblood. Or at least not bothered enough to confront Professor McGonagall the way she had, anyway. She knew it was just a way of releasing the stress that had been thrust upon her lately. But that didn't mean that she was going to forget the blonde haired disgusting idiot who she was going to make sure got a peice of her mind.

"It's understandable why you are upset Hermione. Mr. Malfoy's conduct was anything but unprofessional, unfortunately it's your word against his. And though I myself believe you, there is little I can do but apologize on his behalf. Now before you go on your way let me give you a word of advice. There will always be someone saying something unpleasant about you. It's just the way things are. Now you can choose to let those comments effect you negatively or you can choose to grow from them. Remember, every negative comment will only make you stronger. Think of it as absorption."

Hermione's eyebrows rearranged themselves and her eyes suddenly felt puffy. "Yeah, well what do I do when I can't absorb anymore?" she asked rhetorically. Hermione then proceeded to stand up and dismissed herself quietly from Professor McGonagall's office.

She closed the door to the Proffessor's office lightly and was about to walk away when something caught her eye. It was her reflection she noticed, as she approached the mirror that was strategically placed outside of the Proffessors office. She frowned as she examined her reflection which seemed even worse than when she had seen herself through the Professor's glasses. Her eyes had started to droop and dark patches started to form under her eyes. She sighed and proceeded to walk away from the sad sight she had just seen.

Sleep had become entirely foreign to Hermione the past week, as the memory of her father continued to burn in her mind. Her father had been one of the most important persons in her life. He was her driving force; her inspiration to be the best she could be and now, he was gone. What was the point of anything anymore?

Of course she had to move on, but it was so incredibly difficult. It was difficult to imagine that her father wouldn't be at her house when holidays came around or when she finally went home after her last year at Hogwarts. He wouldn't see her graduate or get married. She would never be able to turn to him for advice or consolation.

Her eyes started to water and she rushed through the hallway in hopes that no one would see her cry. Her father had been someone she'd latched onto, like a rusted screw does to a piece of wood. Now unscrewing that screw would take more effort then she thought she possessed.

She had made her way to the Gryffindor common room and retreated up the stairs to where she knew her unfinished essay awaited her arrival. She had to do something to preoccupy herself and take her thoughts away from her father. She plopped down on her chair, whiped her eyes with the back of her hand and attempted to finish the essay that was due the following morning for potions. Crookshanks purred quietly at her feet and frankly it was giving her a sudden urge to throw the cat outside of her window. Intelligently she ignored her spark of anger and put the tip of her quill against the peice of parchment to begin writing.

_Reductus, one chemical from a mixture of two found in the substance Dectrominus (which was discovered by Browned Blackwood in the Forest of Glea within Ireland)…_

She shook her head helplessly and slammed her quill down on the table, ignoring the snapping sound of it breaking. What was the point? None of this mattered to her anymore. What difference did it make if Reductus could cure diseases caused by pentacuoles? How would this help her get through anything that was of actual importance in life? She cradled her head in her hand as she started taking in deep breaths, trying to contain the tears that wanted to pour out from her closed eyes.

In the past she'd had such a passion for her studies, back when her father was still alive, but now that appreciation was dwindling to near nothingness. If that appreciation left her completely what would become of her? Books and knowledge were all that she was acclaimed for, what would she be without them? Hermione sighed exhaustingly as she raised a cup of tea to her mouth and wet her lips, feeling its sweet taste enter her mouth and soothed her throat as it made its way down. She opened her eyes as she was suddenly inspired in an indescribably way. It was as if that tea had eased her every tension and worry.

What was she doing? Why was she locked up in her room building up a wall of helplessness around her? She couldn't let the death of her father cause her to give up. He would be ashamed if he saw what had become of her. She couldn't let herself dry and wither in this room. She had to keep on living, if not for her then for the memory of her father. With a complete new perception and determination she pressed on with her essay, putting her father's death in the back of her mind as best as she could.

* * *

Harry adjusted his robe and gave a quick glance to the clock that hung snuggly above his classroom door.

"Well class, I'm hoping you all had a pleasant weekend and managed to do the homework that is due in _3_..._2_..._1_...right about now! Come now, pass your papers to the front of your row and I'll be pleased to let you know that the papers will be graded and returned before class is over." Harry announced with a touch of sarcasm in his voice, almost suggesting that he didn't take his job seriously. The students groaned as they proceeded to pass their papers up to be graded.

"Ron, would you do me a quick favor and collect the papers?" He asked Ron, who was busy scribbling down a random last paragraph to his paper. Ron did as he was told and went around collecting all the essays, doing his best not to trip over anything. His freckly frantic face would make anyone laugh and thats just what Hermione did without even noticing she had done it.

Harry scratched the forming stub on his chin and adjusted his glasses. Hermione noted immediately that he seemed completely self conscious, almost conceited. He was running his fingers through his hair, licking his lips, and adjusting his already perfect robe. Whether he knew he was doing it or not would be another story.

Hermione, as well as all the girls in the class, had nearly chocked on their own saliva the moment they walked into Harry's classroom and saw him standing near his desk. Hermione thought he had been gorgeous before but now the only way she could describe him was godly. His hair was cut short enough to make his emerald eyes stand out and seem more alluring than before. He had allowed small stubble to form on his chin making his clean cut style seem a little more mature and seductive. Hermione squirmed in her seat, trying to contain the warm, tingling feeling that ran through her chest, down her stomach and settling in the region between her legs. She was now panting softly, and was considering excusing herself from the room when suddenly her thoughts were interrupted by Harry.

"Fifteen points to the person who can tell me what effect Dudlin's wax has on salamandonian?" _Easy_, Hermione assured herself as she let her arm dart up in the air.

"Yes, Ms. Khan?" Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his back lean against the chalkboard with a very suave look on him.

Hermione tried not to laugh as she heard the words '_Ms. Khan'_ be spoken by Harry_. That was a joke right?_ Hermione looked over and saw Nilufar Khan's hand in the air. _Impossible, _she muttered beneath her breath. How was she not fast enough? And how could he _not_ have picked her? _He was probably sober; _Hermione thought sarcastically, staring enviously as Nilufar put down her hand and combed a beautiful lock of hair from her face.

Hermione could feel the hairs on her neck slowly rising on their ends as she looked at Nilufar. Nilufar was, in short, gorgeous. Her hair was perfectly straight and exoticly dark. And she possesed rare amythest colored eyes that could turn even the toughest of men into romantics. She was a transfer student from a wizarding school in India. With her beauty she had easily become one of the most popular witches at Hogwarts. Also the rumor that her brain capacity was larger than Hermione's had also caused a sudden popularity for Nilufar.

"Dudlins wax contains the chemical combination of enzyme patterns that allow it to prevent the salamandonians from shooting venom from their fangs. The chemicals zetonyc, metamorphoryine, and lonegen- which have yet to be discovered by any muggle- form an elastic band on the areas where the venom is released. There's a spell that can be used to conjur up this wax but it is very complex," answered Nilufar nonchalantly.

Hermione's mouth stood agape not believing what she had heard. Hermione, the brain of the school, hadn't even known all that information about Dudlin's wax. If she didn't know it how could Nilufar _possibly_ know it? When Nilufar's scintillating purple eyes looked over at Hermione she then realized that she had been staring at her the entire time. The rest of the class remained quiet and were not sure whether to hate her for making them feel stupid or praise her for being a genius... a beautiful genius.

"What're you looking at?" Nilufar hissed, catching Hermione off guard. She was gazing at Hermione in an almost threatening manner and Hermione quickly made up an answer to give to her. "Sorry it looked like you had something on your face," Hermione answered, trying not to stutter and succeeded. She tried not to laugh when she could see Nilufar pulling a pocket sized mirror out from her bag.

"My, my, that is extremly impressive Ms. Khan. That answer is at an unbelievably professional level so Ravenclaw gets a well deserved 30 points instead of 15. It looks like we have a new brilliant student, Ms. Granger," Harry announced glancing over at Hermione, his eyes polished with mischief. Harry could feel himself wanting to laugh when he saw Hermione's eyes open the way they did. In result he held in the laugh and it came out sounding like someone was strangling him, making the class all stare at him wondering whether or not it was a serious scenario or not.

Hermione felt harassed, toyed with, and completely transparent. How could Harry have possibly known what she was feeling? From the corner of her eyes she could see Nilufar whipping her hair out of her face to show the gorgeous, clean skin that seemed to come so naturally to her. Hermione slightly rubbed her temples and reminded herself that she had to concentrate on the class. Her full attention had to be directed at the class; not Harry, not Nilufar, and not even her father.

With that Hermione pushed all other thoughts away and began to focus on only one thing. She wrote the notes that were on the board, jotted down self reminders on tiny sticky notes, and she even managed to finish the homework that was assigned for the following day. Her mind seemed to be in overdrive as she furiously began to do all the work assigned for the day and even the work that was assigned for the next day. Once she finished she unconsciously stood up and walked over to Harry's desk to turn in the assignments she had completed. It wasn't until she was already there that her senses came back to her. She stood before his desk and looked at him nervously. Suddenly all the emotion and all the lust she had felt at the beginning of class started to take control of her once more as her breathing became heavier. Her imagination was now running wild as thoughts of him shirless ran through her mind. Images of his broad shoulders, nice arms and long...

"Hermione, I need to see you later on this afternoon to discuss something with you." A deep voice said to her. Hermione shook her head to try and rid herself of the sexual fantasies that had been running lavishly through her mind. She asked him to repeat what he had said and he did, feeling a bit out of place. When he had repeated himself she could only hear his words as what seemed like a whisper or something that came from miles away but yet it was loud enough for her to comprehend what he had said. He wanted her to meet him afterwards.

She suddenly saw a sparkle of enchantment in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed and Hermione was considering declining his request. The two stood there for a moment both awaiting Hermione's reply. The encounter between the two seemed to go unnoticed as the class determinedly did the assigned bookwork. Well, everyone except Nilufar who stared at Hermione with animosity. As if coming to a decision with herself, she stood up from her seat and made a graceful stride towards Harry's desk. Once there she turned on her charm and addressed Harry.

"Yes, Ms. Khan. How may I help you?" Harry asked, tearing his gaze off of Hermione and fixing them on Nilufar who was in a ridiculous pose that seemed model material.

"Well professor, I was wondering if, after class, I could come by and we could possibly discuss Dublin's wax further. I mean, I know more than most people but I am having trouble conjuring it up myself," she asked, fluttering her eyes prettily.

"Actually, you see, Ms. Kha--" Just as Harry was about to answer, Nilufar interrupted him.

"Oh, I insist you call me Nilufar". Hermione could feel herself wanting to barf. Insist? Actually? May I? What was this_, 'Corny-Teacher-Pick-Up-Lines-101'? _

"Unfortunately, Nilufar, the Professor and I have already planned a meeting this afternoon." Hermione crossed her arms and waited for Nilufar to reply or just leave.

"I think it was the Professor that I asked not you Hermione," Nilufar shot back taking her glace off of Hermione and placing it on Harry.

"She's right, Nilufar. We have already scheduled a meeting for this afternoon and it's actually a bit important. Maybe some other time, okay?" Harry answered amused at the exchange between the girls. Hermione could feel her mouth slighlty opening crookedly which was supposed to be her subtle triumphant grin.

"Yeah, of course, that'll be fine" Nilufar replied, trying not to sound disappointed. She retreated back to her seat with her hips violently prancing side to side and Hermione could feel her gaze burning in the back of her head.

"So, I'll see you this afternoon?" Harry asked, the challenge back in his eyes as he handed back her essay paper. Wait, what was he doing? He shouldn't be flirting with a student! What was it about her that drove him to the extreme?

"Yeah," she said, hesatating a bit before taking her graded paper from his hand and walking back to her seat. Had he been flirting with her or was that just her overactive imagination? And had her and Nilufar acually been fighting over him, in front of him none the less? Dear god what was she getting herself into?

_Nothing! Your not getting yourself into anything! I mean he's your teacher for godsake! He wasn't flirting with you! And that thing with Nilufar was nothing! You were simply jealous of her extensive knowledge on Dublin's wax...that's all and of course that shes more beautiful... more popular...! _Hermoine suddenly stopped herself from mentally continuining on.

Hermoine took in a deep breath and began to look at her paper. _A plus_, Hermione assured herself but when she looked at her paper there was a 75 C written in red at the top left hand corner. _What!_

The rest of the day had gone by too slowly for Hermoine. She hadn't wanted to admit it but she was extremly anxious to see why it was that Harry had requested a meeting that afternoon. She had just left Potions and was headed to her dormitories to drop off her things when she ran into Ron.

"You should watch were your going," he barked, rubbing the place where Hermoine had bumped into him.

"Ugh go chew on something," replied Hermoine knitting her eyebrows.

"Depending on what it is I might just do it with pleasure," Ron said with ease and humor in his voice.

"Disgusting...". Hermione softly trotted away from him reciting to herself an enchantment that she was to be tested on in Charms. Ron jogged slightly to catch up with her and didn't seem to take any notice of how annoyed Hermione was by his presence. "Ginny told me to tell you that she wanted to know if you still wanted your eyebrows waxed and your nose hairs plucked. Oh and did you hear Snapes new rule about manditory tampon usage for all girls? Hey, where're you going?" She could feel her mouth twitching as she resist the urge to chuckle obnoxiously at the jokes he was making about her.

"None of your business," she replied, ruffling her robes and continuing in the direction in which she was headed.

"Well if your not too busy Brainy, maybe you could come with me to Hogsmead. I could use a Butter Beer and by the looks of it so could you. We can sneak out somehow," he offered, actually sounding sincere for once.

Hermoine slowed her feverish pace and then stopped all together to glance at Ron. They had the strangest relationship. One minute they were ready to tear their eyes out and the next they were friends going out to go have a drink. He was so irritating but at the same time Hermoine knew he was the only friend she had at Hogwarts. That realization made Hermoine feel a deep sense of loneliness. She sighed and ran her fingers through her curly hair.

"Yeah, ok. You're right, I could use a Butter Beer," she said wearily, noticing at that moment how exhasted she actually was, "But first I have to change and go see Ha...Proffesor Potter. It's only going to take a few minutes."

Hermoine saw the disdain in Ron's eyes when she mentioned Harry. Why was Ron so against him? Till now she thought everyone liked him. Sure the guys had been hesitant at first, especially when they noticed how all the girls fawned over him, but they all warmed up to him. Why hadn't Ron. As if reading her thoughts Ron spoke.

"There isn't a reason. I just don't like him. It's just a feeling. Maybe I feel intimidated around him you know? The big and famous Harry Potter that everyone loves."

"Am I _that_ transparent that you know what I'm thinking?" She asked, a bit dissapointed that she was _that_ predictable. Hermoine began to walk again but didn't miss the smirk on Ron's face.

"I've known you for forever Hermoine. You've always been really predictable. I mean if you aren't in your room then your in the library. If your not in the library then your in the bathroom doing who knows what with yourself. And if your not in the bathroom then your hopelessly somewhere outside on a bench.," he answered arrogantly, keeping up with her fast pace. Hermoine, deciding it would be best not to comment and just rolled her eyes and kept walking.

They reached the Gryffindor common room quickly and Ron waited while Hermoine went up to change. She came down and instead of her unflattering black robe she had on a pair of faded blue jeans, sleek black boots and a black long sleeved shirt, slightly unbuttoned at the top. Ron took the time to notice how much Hermoine had changed since their first year. She was taller, much taller, and more graceful. Her figure had undergone a tremendous transformation as well. Her once flat chest was now a bit fuller. Her hair too had seemed to change. Though it was still unruly it now looked more like curls and less like a tangled mess. Hermoine saw Ron's contemplative eye's and wondered what it was that he was thinking.

"What's wrong?" She asked, grabbing her beige jacket and heading towards Ron.

"No," was all Ron said as he lead her out of the common room and into the hall. '_No_' was all he needed to say for Hermione to comprehend and she smiled appreciatively when he looked the other way with a blush blotched across his face.

The walk to Harry's classroom was silent. The two of them had endured so many awkward silences to the point that there was no such thing as an awkward silence anymore. Once they reached the classroom Hermoine turned to look at Ron.

"Stay here, I should be out in a minute," she ordered, a bit more nervously than she'd intended.

"Why? Why can't I go in with you?" Ron asked defiantly. That disdainful look was in his eyes again and Hermoine wanted to ask why he wanted to go in anyway but decided agianst it. He looked like a child begging for something he couldn't get but wanted anyway.

"Just stay here! It's a private meeting," Hermoine explained vaguely, not waiting for him to reply.

She walked in only to be greated by the strong odor of freshly brewed coffee that filled her lungs up with its sweet scent. The curtains on the windows were drawn back to let the late afternoon rays drench the classroom in a beautiful yellowish pinkish light. It would have been a very romantic setting if there was in fact a romantic moment to back it up. Hermoine sighed.

_You're so pathetic! A classroom? Romantic?_

_Well...the lighting and the soft fresh smell of the.._

_Yeah...ok...uhuh..._

Hermoine shook her head slightly, trying to rid herself of those pestering voices in her head that were actually her practical-sensible sides to her. She looked at Harry's desk and noticed that he wasn't there. _Maybe he's running a bit late, _she thought and began wandering idly around the classroom. She approached his desk and looked at the things that were placed atop of it. Nothing out of the ordinary, just the normal ungraded papers, pens, a calander and the frame which contained the picture of his fiance. Or, which _should_ have contained a picture of his fiance, at the moment the frame was picture-less and Hermoine thought back to the argument that Harry had had with her.

Hermoine backed away from the desk and proceeded to look around the room once agian, noticing something in her inspection. His office door was open. A strong pang of curiosity convinced her to walk toward it. Should she go in? What could he have stored in there? She knew she shouldn't have but without any more hesitation she stepped inside his office. The aroma of coffee became stronger and Hermoine noted the coffee maker pouring out coffee at a snails pace.

There was another desk in his office and Hermoine approached it noticing that this one had alot more personal belongings. There were alot more photographs, one imparticular caught her attention. It was a picture of him with his arm over the shoulders of a tall man with dirty looking hair. Obviously friends, she noted but that wasn't what had caught her eye. What had really intiguied her about the picture was Harry's expression. He was smiling. Not one of his cocky or forlorn smiles but a true, genuine smile full of joy. This smile reached his eyes making them sparkle and making him look all the more handsome. His eyes still held a note of mischeif but it was slightly masked by his obviously happy state.

"Hermoine?"

His voice shocked her and she felt herself jump and it oddly felt as if she were floating. At the shock of his voice she felt the frame slip from her hands and land, with a crash, on the floor. She cursed herself as she knelt down to pick up the broken frame, blushing profusely as she did so and then feeling idiotic that she didn't repair it with a simple spell.

"Har...Proffessor Potter! I am so...so...sorry! I didn't mean to...I was just...well..." Hermoine felt like kicking herself for stuttering. She sounded like a damned fool.

She felt his hand encircle her upper arm and hoist her up to her feet. She continued to look down at the floor, where the scattered pieces of glass lay, unable to look up at him. He then removed his hand from her arm and took the remainder of the frame from her gently, looking at it as he did so. Hermoine took advantage of the moment and looked up at him. He didn't seem angry, instead he smiled bitterly, eyeing the photograph sadly.

"You...you looked really happy," she whispered, not knowing what had possessed her to do so.

"I was," he replied solemly, going over to his desk and placing the photograph back in the place where Hermoine had found it. Hermoine's blush deepened, feeling guilty for having invaded his privacy and bringing back obvioulsy painful memories.

"I'm sorry, I...I shouldn't have been in here. I was just preoccupying...I didn't mean to..." She tried to explain not being able to control her stuttering.

"Would you like some coffee?" He interupted.

"Um, sure...I mean yes I would," she answered, noting the way he changed the subject. He strode over to the coffee pot and started to pour some of the steaming black liquid into a cup.

"How do you like your coffee?" he asked casually, as if the incident hadn't occured. He was avoiding her, she realized.

"One tablespoon of sugar. Black." After she was done talking she felt like laughing at herself. What was he now, her own personal butler?

"Black? That's odd." He murmured walking over to her and handing her a styrofoam cup.

"I know. But I think if you add anything other than a bit of sugar that it takes away from the taste. I like it bittersweet. My father used to make fun of me for it," she spoke, a whimsical smile upon her lips. Then she stopped smiling abruptly, reminding herself that her father would no longer be there to make fun of the way she drank her coffee. Harry noticed how abruptly her mood changed and spoke up quickly.

"Well enough talk of coffee. Lets get to the reason why you're here this afternoon." He began, taking a sip of his, also, black coffee. Hermione could tell it was his first time tasting it after he momentarily scrunched up his face in disgust.

"Well, you see Professor, you never did tell me why you wanted to speak with me," Hermoine replied, putting the memory of her father aside and focusing on the man in front of her.

"I didn't?" he asked, trying to remember why it was that he had asked her to join him that afternoon. Then it hit him, he didn't really have a reason. "Well you see the thing is...I really don't remember," he said, taking another sip from his coffee.

She tilted her head to the side slightly and looked at him oddly. The manner in which he had responded seemed very familiar. It sounded like regret, or resentment. Like he didn't want her there. _Oh shut up Hermoine your delusional! You're overanalyzing things. Maybe he really did forget, I mean he has tons of kids he needs to keep track of._

"Well, in that case then I guess I should..."

"No actually, I do need you for something," he replied quickly, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"I need you to get me a few things." He suddenly smiled and his seemingly alligned teeth caught her off gaurd.His eyes had turned red and dark with no life in them as they had been moments ago. He scrambled for a piece of parchment that appeared to have been in his pocket and gave it to her. She observed a bulge of redness lingering near one of his nostrils and he looked ahead past her starry eyed. She was doing her best to pretend that she wasn't afraid but watching his skin become more and more pale before her eyes was frightening. Suddenly the room's temperature seemed to drop and Hermione could see her breath rising out of her mouth.

"Tell your friend that's standing outside the door to come in once your gone." The red bulge now slowly ran down his nose and Hermione quickly identified it as half dried blood. "Extra credit...". Harry muttered with a slight smile and Hermione shivered as she looked at his ghastly appearance that had altered itself in a matter of a few seconds.


End file.
